


Smile!

by JohnxHelen



Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy? Ending, F/M, Grief, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of the Holocaust, Multi, Nazis, Pre-Canon, helens a Cincinnati camp guard au, read into it what you will, tw:anti-semitism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-18 00:55:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16107386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnxHelen/pseuds/JohnxHelen
Summary: Erich is comforted after the death of his mother. Set before season 1.  Also, one of the lines is a episode title for s3. sue me.





	Smile!

Erich Raeder rarely showed his emotions. He had seen other men betrayed through showing a hint of feeling. Wives turning in husbands, girlfriends fucking up boyfriends lives, he never wanted any of it. But his views changed when Helen had brought him to her house and had initiated a threesome between her, her husband, and him. There, he felt the closest version of happiness in the Greater Nazi Reich. He also felt safe enough to show some emotions to them, and confide in them his darkest secrets. He moved in shortly after:on nights, he would go into their room and spend time with them. 

One day in early June, his mother died. While he knew it would happen one day, it was a great blow. Like all children, he believed his mother would live forever. She was the only member of his family that made it through the war and its aftermath: his father had died on the Doolittle Raid “screaming like a stuck pig” his mother stated with a strange calm, his only brother had gone to the army and had died at the hands of his boss-turned lover. And yet he fucked him. 

He drove back home, mind churning with thoughts. When they inquired about his mother’s health, he responded with grunts. Erich cleared his plate, put his dishes in the dishwasher, and strode up to his room. His lovers stared at each other, looks of bewilderment on their faces until John realized the tragedy that had occurred. 

He did not want to touch them or go anywhere near them at nights, thinking they were the reason she passed away. As soon as they fell asleep, he would sneak to his room. Because he had chosen to defy the laws of man, fate came to punish him. Just like John’s hand on his ass when he did something without his permission. A series of shudders rolled down his body at that thought. He tried to halt them, clenching his fingers into tight fists against the bedsheets. But nothing could stop them. 

Or his lovers. He heard a knock on the door that brooked no delays. “Erich!” he heard called from behind the door. He did not want to see them, hear their oblioquies against the sick. One of them was his mother, and she was cut down like a sick horse. He came to realize that there was no glory in death, no heroes in war. 

A urge to run to the bathroom and use the razor rushed through him. He had not used it in two years, before he’d gone to their house. He could feel them on his wrist, angry mouths sucking in blood. Part of him resisted the rebellious means of this dark shadow. But it was to no avail. He threw away the covers (to hell with neatness!) and hurried into the bathroom. 

He grabbed his razor, cuffed his sleeve, and was about to leave a mark when slams rocked the space. The door fell into the entryway, leaving Erich vulnerable to gazes brimming with curiosity and anger. “Erich? Helen inquired. “Are you alright?” He was stunned, and did not answer, stung by them. They were so perfect, and he was not. They had every friend, connection which he did not. The jealousy Erich felt at that moment would have overturned Reich Headquarters. 

But then John circulated around him. His lion. His king. If there was one man he would listen to in the entire world, it would be him. There was something unnatural about her when she reassured, this aura that showed who she used to be to others—he’d seen the uniform Helen wore, the stories she’d told about her duties on the Road of Death in KZ Cincinnati, comforting children before they were executed in the “showers.” 

“Tell me what happened. It’s been a while.” he queried. 

His voice emanated from behind his neck. His arms wrapped around his waist. He smelled the perfume of Helen. (apples and pomegranates mixed with a handful of lavender). Never had he felt desired and vulnerable in that moment: if any of them frowned or had any negative reactions, he would have listened to the counsel of his shadow. But they did not. “Erich.” she cooed, repeating her husbands sentiment. “Talk to me. Tell me everything. Please. I’m worried about you.” 

Erich could not resist when they did that, when they cared for him. Of course they liked the sex, who wouldn’t, but this was his favorite part of their relationship. When they took care of him, cooing, telling him that he was theirs, only theirs. It fueled the possessive side of him, the shadow that whispered in his ear every time John took his wife, every time he moaned Helen’s name. He loved it. He couldn’t resist. 

The thought was enough to coax Erich out of his shell. “My mother, sir. You know about that, don’t you? How she died like a-like a dog. From YOU? You are the problem, sir. Not her. Not-“ He broke into a fresh round of sobbing while his lovers sat there, watching him break down. They thanked no one that a camera was not around to capture this. While they did have their doubts, they would have more to risk than him. 

“Erich.” Helen said. “Boy.” she barked when he did not stop. “Now more than ever, beloved, we care about you.” He looked up at her, incredulous. “Really?” he gasped. “Yes.” John chimed in. “We do. “ He grinned. “There you go.” he beamed and placed the razor on the counter. “You need to smile, boy. It helps. No one wants to see that.” 

He pulled Erich in and whispered, “When her mother died, she tried to do the same thing. I told her this: Don’t grieve like that. Cry on me, sob, drink, whatever but not like that. Because there isn’t any hope of getting better when you find a razor. I shaved her for a few months afterwards. It was quite a pleasurable experience. Would you want that?” Hearing about John’s caring side had made him feel guilt about his previous remarks. Also, John gave good advice. No one needed to see Erich sobbing on a floor. He smiled greatly, even more than his lovers had seen in a few years. “I’ll take it as a yes .”John responded, smiling as well. It gave him great pleasure to comfort his lovers. 

“Come on.” he ordered Erich. The two took him out of the room. He followed behind them for a while until they got to the bedroom. John kissed his wife and whispered something in his ear. It must have concerned him, for they moved to embrace him. “You can stay here, beloved.” John murmured. “We won’t bite. I promise.” He slumped into their embrace, grinning like John had told him to whenever he was about to break down. 


End file.
